


Regarding Archangels

by Guerrera_del_Cielo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Lucifer, Hurt/Comfort, Lucifer Has Feelings (Supernatural), Lucifer Has Issues (Supernatural), Lucifer Needs a Hug (Supernatural), M/M, Mates, Omega Lucifer (Supernatural), SO MUCH FLUFF, Sad Lucifer (Supernatural), but it's not what you think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:33:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22641892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guerrera_del_Cielo/pseuds/Guerrera_del_Cielo
Summary: This is based off of PetrichorPerfume's work, Reactions, part of her Shenanigans series.Dean and Lucifer are mates. It's known by both of them. It's great. Except it isn't.Dean is disgusted by Lucifer. The idea of being 'mated' to the devil is ridiculous, not to mention painfully ironic. His behavior toward Lucifer is nothing short of cruel and cold.Until he finds a little black book on the table. It reads 'Regarding Archangels, For Dean Winchester' on the cover.Well, it says it's for him. And besides, what's the harm a little book can do?Or: the one fic nobody asked for where Castiel helps Dean get his head out of his ass and the hunter and archangel make up with lots of fluffy cuddles.
Relationships: Lucifer/Dean Winchester
Comments: 30
Kudos: 187





	Regarding Archangels

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Reactions](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2115909) by [PetrichorPerfume](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetrichorPerfume/pseuds/PetrichorPerfume). 



> This fic was inspired by PetrichorPerfume's Reactions. I loved the dynamic of that fic and decided to ask if I could put my own spin on it. They graciously gave me permission to write using their idea, and here we are!
> 
> I hope you like it! It's ridiculously fluffy, unrealistic, and adorable. ;)
> 
> Enjoy!

Dean had talked to Castiel and read lore books enough by now to know how things were _supposed_ to feel.

When you were bonded to an angel, you were supposed to feel protected. Loved. Excited, maybe. You were also supposed to love them, which Dean did not.

At least, he tried to convince himself that was the case.

And those other emotions? No. All Dean felt was _annoyed._

Because now that Lucifer was Dean's 'mate', he felt obligated to be even more intrusive than he already was. He made sure that Dean ate _every meal_ , cleaned up his work space while he was _still working_ , and even thought he was entitled to actually sleep _in Dean's bed._

To say the least, the hunter was very annoyed.

At least it was easy to get Lucifer to stop. All he had to do was glare at him or tell him to go away, and the archangel would back off.

But that didn't help break the _habit_. It was annoying as shit, in Dean's opinion.

And yes, maybe he found it _a little_ endearing when Lucifer struggled to make him a salad to replace the burger the hunter usually ate. Maybe he appreciated that the archangel woke him and forced him to go to sleep in his own bed instead of at the kitchen table, because he always woke up with a crick in his neck. 

But that didn't stop it from being annoying. Especially the almost-sad look the archangel got, and the way he disappeared right after Dean told him to stop being in his space.

It made the hunter feel awful, to be honest.

_But why should I? This is stupid. He's the_ devil _, for God's sake._

And yes, maybe Dean got a little meaner. Maybe he yelled at Lucifer for no reason, stayed angry at him for days without explanation, blamed him for things he had no control over, and was generally an ass. But. . . the angel didn't seem to mind.

Right?

_It doesn't matter. He's the devil. He can handle it._

Yes. Dean was fine. He was secure in the fact that their relationship, however real it was, was forced and would never happen.

He had almost forgotten about the whole thing until he found the little black book.

It was simple, leather-bound, obviously well-worn and aged. But it was what was scratched on the front that made Dean pause.

_Regarding_ _Archangels, For Dean Winchester_

The hunter frowned, glancing up. No one was in the kitchen, but the book had obviously been left in a place where he would find it. Dean was always in the kitchen, whether it was when he was cooking, eating, or cleaning.

Sighing, the hunter pocketed the book. He'd inspect it later. For now, they had lives to save.

He forgot about it after that.

With the amount of hunts that cropped up over the next few weeks, Dean got less and less sleep. With that came annoyance and irritability. He didn't have enough fingers to count how many times he and Sam argued.

He and Lucifer argued even more, Dean's shouts echoing long into the night.

It all came to a head when they were trying to hunt down a witch who kept stealing the hearts of young men and using them in her spells. She had managed to rack up a kill total of twenty-three, which was making the local town start to notice. 

Nothing was going right, and after a long day of nothing and another death, Dean and Lucifer had their worst fight yet.

It was stupid, Dean would realize later. He hadn't needed to pick the fight. Lucifer hadn't needed to stay and see it through. And Sam and Castiel hadn't said anything, just shared a look and got out as quickly as they could.

That left Dean and Lucifer. 

They were arguing about the decision to go to the library of a nearby campus. It hadn't yielded any information and had only seen them on the wrong side of town when another person was killed.

As a result, Dean had been furious at Lucifer for suggesting the idea of going to the campus library, though he knew it wasn't technically the angel's fault they'd gone there. The argument was long and drawn out, and it ended when Dean accidentally (or not) said that Lucifer should go back to the Cage.

Dean would have been fine with the angel flying off. He would have been completely at ease, because he simply didn't care.

But he did. He must have cared a little, or he wouldn't have felt so unsettled after the devil left. In fact, as Lucifer had turned, his eyes filling with rarely-seen tears, Dean had almost called for him to come back.

Almost.

They ended up solving the case the next day, though Lucifer didn't return. He didn't show up for the next few days after, either.

On the fourth day of no Lucifer, Dean remembered the little book.

He pulled it out of the flannel he'd left it in and plopped down on his bed, cracking open the well-worn cover. _Regarding_ _Archangels,_ the cover read. _For Dean Winchester._

The hunter ran his fingertips over his name, then opened the book to the first page. Neat, carefully-written letters met his eyes.

_Alright, let's do this._

Dean settled back and began to read.

_Regarding_ _Archangels, For Dean Winchester_

__

_Archangels are emotional creatures. They tend to hide their feelings, and a certain archangel in particular is a master at that. Archangels especially don't like to show their emotions around their humans, but when they have been pushed too hard for too long, sometimes those emotions surface._

With a jolt, Dean realized that said 'certain archangel' could be none other than Lucifer. After all, there were only four, and he was the only one the Winchesters trusted.

Not for the first time, the hunter wondered who had written the book. He hadn't seen Sam or Castiel frantic to find it. If anything, the dark-haired angel had seemed. . . pleased.

Dean continued reading.

_Archangels are also extremely cuddly,_ the book stated. Dean snorted at that. How ridiculous. _They are social creatures, used to flocks and family. When an archangel is isolated from its flock for a long period of time, it grows dejected and depressed. This depression can lead to an archangel's dangerous thoughts and actions, such as attempting to injure itself._

Dean gave a little jolt.

Lucifer. . . Lucifer had been isolated for a very long time. Longer than humanity could remember. But. . . he never seemed depressed.

_But then again_ , a horrible voice in the back of Dean's mind whispered, _didn't it say that they hide their emotions well?_

Shivering, Dean continued.

_Along with being cuddly, archangels enjoy physical and verbal affection. Certain archangels enjoy it more, and they are hit hardest when they aren't given the amount of touches and praise that they need. They sometimes come to other angels to try to gain that affection, but it is something only a mate or a flock-member can truly fulfill._

Suddenly, horrible certainty filled Dean's chest. This book. . . it was about _Lucifer_. And Castiel had probably written it. It explained why the angel had been acting the way he had over the past few days.

The idea was supported even more by the next few paragraphs.

_When an archangel is isolated for a long time, especially when they've been subjected to physical or emotional pain, they tend to think too hard, much like humans. Their thoughts often turn toward self-hatred, and they start to believe that they are not worthy of the love and affection they crave._

The next sentence hit Dean the hardest.

_These self-deprecating ideas can often be backed up by cruel treatment from loved ones, especially mates._

_Shit_ , Dean thought. _How many times have I unintentionally hurt Lucifer? And how many times. . . how many times has it been intentional?_ The thought made him feel sick.

_Archangels sometimes get tired. They get tired of being strong, tired of hiding their emotions, and tired of living. Sometimes, they confide these things to angels, and that prompts the angels to write books so their assbutt friends realize what they are doing._

Dean would smile at Castiel's frankness, if it didn't hurt so much.

_Why does it hurt? Why? I hate him. He's the devil. And-_

_And. . ._

_And he's my mate. And I've been making him feel like he doesn't want to be alive._

Dean actually leaned over the side of the bed, convinced he was going to vomit. He didn't, but it was a near thing. Just thinking about the words made his stomach roil.

_Archangels have subgenders, unlike humans. Certain ones are born as Omega or Alpha, depending on what God intended. When an archangel is an Omega, they like to take care of their mates and make sure they are happy and healthy. It hurts them when their attempts at helping are rejected. It also hurts them when their mates don't do what they are supposed to in return. Alphas are meant to cherish and protect their Omegas, and Omegas often have a deep-seated need to feel safe and loved that can only be sated by their Alpha._

_Oh, shit_. That was all Dean could think. That was all he _knew._ A deep feeling of despair and worry. What had the book said? That archangels got depressed and tried to hurt themselves when they weren't shown the affection they deserved? _Kind of like humans, in that sense_ , Dean realized.

He felt sick. He felt like his heart was breaking on the inside. He felt like he had tripped and started falling, and the ground was still a long ways away.

_I've been hurting him. This could be classified as abuse,_ Dean realized, staring blankly at the paper. _I've been abusing him. My. . . my mate. Oh, shit._

And there was still more to go.

_Certain archangels don't like being left alone. Said archangels are reminded of their time in the Cage, and they feel abandoned and afraid that their mate/family member doesn't want them and will leave them. Though they act like they don't care, they really, really do, and their crying keeps their angel brothers awake at night sometimes._

How many times had he told Lucifer to leave? Hell, Dean had laughed and told him to fuck off when Lucifer had tried to get into his bed. That last fact made Dean feel even worse when he read the next part.

_Archangels get nightmares a lot. They don't like to talk about them much, but it's easy to guess what their dreams are about most of the time. Archangels only want to be cuddled during those times, as seen above. They take comfort in physical affection, and they also like to hear that you love them or that they are safe. It may seem foolish to certain hunters, but it is an important fact._

Dean closed his eyes, feeling the broken pieces of his heart twist in his chest. It hurt. Hurt to know that he'd hurt Lucifer. Hurt to know that he'd essentially been torturing the archangel all this time. All the shit about him being the devil seemed to wash away, and there was only the horrible certainty that Lucifer was alone right now, probably crying.

_I need to fix this,_ Dean thought. _I need to fix it. But first. . . First I need to know the rest._

So he continued to read.

_Archangels like certain foods, though they claim they cannot taste them. The truth is, if they wanted to, they could. Some archangels are curious and try human food from time to time, and they often find that it isn't so bad, though they don't technically need to eat. Sweet foods are best, but archangels also like spicy things._

_Archangels also enjoy watching their humans sleep. It gives them a sense of security, and it makes them feel like they're doing something right. For certain hunters to claim that they are light sleepers is absurd, because surely they would hear when the archangels appear and cry next to them while they sleep. It is the only time they can be near their human._

And just like that, Dean's heart shattered all over again. His eyes actually prickled with tears, and he had to sit up to avoid suffocating as his throat closed up.

Lucifer. . . He watches Dean while he sleeps. Because he thinks he feels like less of a failure. And he cries. Because Dean hurts him so much that the only time he can be near him is when he's out like a light. The only time he can stand Lucifer's presence is when he doesn't know it's there.

And he _cries_. . . Dean tried to block out the image, but he couldn't. Of Lucifer lying down on the cold, hard ground. Crying because Dean was so cruel to him.

_Why? Why does he stay? Why does he put up with me?_

Dean shook his head, swallowing against the tears rising in his throat.

He continued.

_Archangels don't like arguing. They especially don't like shouting. It reminds them of Hell, the Cage, and Heaven in the final days before the Fall. They don't like to be yelled at, and they don't like loud noises or conflict of any sort. They get sad when that happens, especially when the person they would normally go to for comfort is the one that is angry with them._

Dean put his head over the side of the bed again, convinced he would vomit. It didn't happen again, but the sick feeling didn't go away.

How many times over the past few months had he been angry at Lucifer? Had he yelled at him? Had he said hurtful, awful things, then ignored the archangel completely for the next week? And their fights. . . Now that Dean thought about it, they always included him yelling and Lucifer staying quiet.

_I'm an abusive old bastard. Good Chuck, I'm worse than Dad_ , Dean thought. The idea was enough to make him want to be sick again.

_Archangels are very insecure creatures, especially if they were once known for being the most beautiful in all of Heaven. Their wings are sensitive topics, but if they trust you enough, they will show them to you. They enjoy praise and verbal affection, and they get insecure and depressed when they don't receive it. They also take negative comments very harshly, and they can sometimes cry about them for days._

_Certain archangels don't like being called 'Devil' or 'Satan' either. Certain archangels don't like being reminded of their Fall, and it hurts when their human ignores that fact._

_Archangels like soft things, like blankets and pillows. Certain archangels hate being cold, as it reminds them of the Cage. They like to huddle in warm, fluffy things. It reminds them of their nests back in Heaven. Archangels like to nest, especially Omegas. It makes them feel secure and safe, and it also helps them feel like they belong. Nests are sacred to archangels, and they often use them to try to impress their mate or gain their attention. When their nests are rejected, it can be one of the most devastating things of all._

_Despite all of that, and all of the mistreatment certain hunters put certain archangels through, archangels are very loving creatures. They have told certain angels many times that their human is the best thing that has ever happened to them. They get excited over the smallest scrap of affection, and they crave the small things, like smiles or coffee or praise. They don't realize that their mates are assbutts sometimes, and they think they deserve the mistreatment. Which is why it is important for certain hunters to apologize. Immediately._

And that was it. The end of the most damning book Dean had ever read.

Wiping away tears that he didn't remember shedding, the hunter got out of bed. He put the book on his table and made a mental note to come back to it later. _After_ he'd found his archangel and apologized.

Because that was the truth. Lucifer was _his_ archangel. His mate. He was a living being. Dean had seen him as merely the devil for so long that he had forgotten that. Had forgotten that Lucifer had emotions and needs.

_I need to fix this. Can it be fixed?_

Dean sniffled a little. He looked around his room, mind churning. The book had said that Lucifer was an. . . Omega. Whatever that was. It had explained, just a little. Enough, Dean supposed, for him to get a general idea of what he needed to do.

A plan began to form in his mind, and Dean stood, his face set. First, he would go to talk to Castiel.

Then he would find Lucifer and make sure the angel knew that he was sorry.

Lucifer sat under the overhang of a park, alone at the empty picnic tables. It was pouring rain, so the only human he'd seen was an old lady taking her dog for a walk a few hours before.

She hadn't seen him. Just kept right on walking.

Loneliness, hard and aching, yawned in Lucifer's chest. He hadn't felt this way since the Cage. Since he'd been abandoned by his family.

He had been abandoned again, he supposed. Dean had made it very clear that he wasn't welcome. He had told the angel to go back to the Cage. If it were possible, Lucifer probably would have, just to punish himself.

He deserved it. Deserved the pain and misery. Deserved to be alone. He wasn't enough for his mate, didn't deserve his love and affection.

Still. . . Lucifer could hold on to the good memories, _would_ hold onto them, for as long as he could before they turned bitter with pain and sadness.

Dean smiling at him, if only for a brief second.

Dean's hair in the morning, before he put gel in it.

The warmth of his body in the bed after he got up and left and Lucifer sneaked into the room to wrap himself in the hunter's scent. Not as good as his actual body heat, of course, but close. As close as Lucifer was ever going to get.

The way he grinned at Sam and Castiel, as if they were his world. Lucifer dreamed of Dean looking at him like that.

His food, delicious and surprisingly comforting, when Lucifer managed to sneak some after the humans had eaten.

And his scent, always his scent. Dean smelled like leather and whiskey, like warmth and clean fabric and some minty, forest-like scent that was all his own. Lucifer wished he could wrap himself up in that scent, wished he could lie down and just inhale it forever.

When he was feeling particularly weak, Lucifer sometimes invaded the human's personal space. He knew that Dean would probably yell at him if he ever found out, but sometimes Lucifer would enter his room while the hunter was asleep and kneel by the bed. He'd lay his head on the mattress beside the hunter's sleeping form, allowing his scent and warmth and closeness soothe the fear of whatever nightmare Lucifer had been having.

Of course, that never worked for long. Soon, Lucifer would want to get _on_ the bed, to cuddle against Dean's body, to have the hunter wrap his arms around him and pull him close.

_Dean won't want that_ , Lucifer had reminded himself. _He'll hate me even more. I need to stay away. He doesn't want me._

He always left soon after and cried in his room.

That simple fact, the fact that Dean didn't want him, was enough to keep Lucifer from doing much in the way of courting him. Still, he couldn't help his natural Omega instincts. Though Dean was human and not technically an Alpha, he still had the strength, possessiveness, and demeanor of one. Lucifer couldn't stop himself from trying to help as much as Dean would allow. Making sure the hunter didn't fall asleep at the kitchen table, that he got enough sleep, ate enough, was warm at night, didn't have any nightmares.

Even though the hunter either didn't notice or didn't care, Lucifer still felt like he was helping in some small way.

Lucifer was so far into his own thoughts he nearly fell off the bench when he heard it.

Not many people prayed to him, and the ones that did only wanted him to kill someone or curse someone else or something. But this. . . this was a direct prayer.

From Dean.

_Lucifer? Can you hear me?_

_Lucifer, it's Dean. Listen, I have to talk to you. Can you. . . can you please come back? Come back to the Bunker? We need to talk_. 

For a second, Lucifer contemplated rushing back as fast as he could.

_No_ , he thought. _I don't want him to yell at me again. I almost cried in front of him. I'll give it a few more days._

But he couldn't stop himself from listening intently as Dean's voice came to him again.

Though voices almost always sounded the same in prayers, Dean's managed to sound softer and. . . gentler this time. Like the hunter was trying to sound kinder.

_Lucifer, please. I'm sorry. Can you. . . can you please come back? Please? I promise, I'm not mad. I just want to talk._

Not mad? Dean was _always_ mad.

But. . . Lucifer couldn't deny the feeling of longing. He _wanted_ to answer his mate's call, to go back to the Bunker and see what he needed.

And in the end, the pain in Lucifer's chest that could only be soothed by Dean was what won the archangel over.

Sighing, he took one last look at the empty park he'd been sitting at.

Then he closed his eyes and flew back to the Bunker.

Lucifer appeared in the hallway outside of Dean's door. The hunter was waiting for him.

For once, he didn't look angry or annoyed, arms crossed and face scowling. Instead, he looked. . . nervous?

Even more shocking was the way the hunter gestured for Lucifer to come into his room. Dean _never_ let Lucifer in his room. It was sacred ground for the hunter, and Lucifer was most definitely _not_ sacred.

The hunter closed the door behind Lucifer. The angel looked around, eyes wide with interest. There was a pile of fluffy-looking blankets on the hunter's bed. Lucifer had to physically restrain himself from going over and collapsing into them. He was exhausted, and he was sad. His Omega need to nest was very prominent, and with the way this room smelled of _mate_. . .

"Lucifer?"

Lucifer turned and looked at the hunter. "Yes, Dean?"

"I. . . I wanted to apologize."

Lucifer stared at Dean, dumbfounded.

Never, in all his months of knowing the hunter, had he ever apologized so honestly and with such straight-forwardness. Usually, it took hours to drag an apology from him, and he _never_ apologized to Lucifer.

But here he was, looking worried and sad and. . . guilty?

"Why?" Lucifer managed to ask. He was confused. "I was the one who messed up."

Dean's face fell. "No, it wasn't your fault, Lucifer. And. . . And I'm not just sorry for the fight we had."

For a moment, hope stirred in Lucifer's chest. He smashed it back down with brutal efficiency. "Okay. Thank you," Lucifer replied. He turned to leave, but Dean stepped forward, into his space.

The hunter was slightly taller than Lucifer, and for a moment, the archangel had the ridiculous urge to tuck his head under Dean's chin.

He refrained, instead looking at the hunter wide-eyed.

"I'm sorry for hurting you," Dean whispered, his deep voice rough. He brought a hand up, brushing his knuckles against Lucifer's cheekbone. "I'm sorry for pushing you away and making you cry. I don't deserve you."

Lucifer's eyes fluttered shut against his will. He pressed his face into Dean's hand, desperate for more contact. The hunter obliged, cupping the archangel's face in his hands. Callouses scraped against Lucifer's face, and he opened his eyes to look into Dean's.

"You hate me," Lucifer breathed.

"No," Dean said, shaking his head. "No. I just. . . I needed to get my head out of my ass."

"And is it free?" Lucifer asked. Dean's eyes crinkled as he smiled, a chuckle escaping his lips.

"Yes." Dean's face changed to something more serious, his eyes remorseful. "I'm sorry, angel."

Lucifer's resolve broke at the pet name. He stepped forward, leaning his head against Dean's chest. The hunter, instead of pushing him away as expected, wrapped his arms around Lucifer's vessel.

The archangel had never really thought of his vessel in a positive light. He'd never really thought of it period. But here, wrapped in Dean's powerful, warm embrace, he was glad that his vessel was short and slight. At least, relative to Dean.

The hunter put his face into Lucifer's hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. The archangel sobbed, his knees giving out.

_Finally_ , his heart wailed. _Finally._

Dean caught him, gently moving them to the bed. Lucifer curled into the nest of soft blankets. Dean got up, backing away as Lucifer adjusted the pillows and blankets a little.

"Dean," Lucifer whimpered.

"I don't. . . Castiel told me that Omegas' nests are sacred. I want your permission before I come closer," Dean said gently.

_Omega. He knows I'm an Omega._

The thought made the desperate need for his mate even stronger. " _Dean_. Please," Lucifer begged. He made a grabbing motion for his mate, and Dean seemed to deem that permission enough.

He climbed into the nest, his arms going around Lucifer immediately. The archangel's pleasure rumbled from his chest as he tucked his head into the space between Dean's neck and shoulder.

"Are you. . . are you purring?" Dean asked tentatively.

Lucifer answered by purring louder. 

The hunter chuckled and threw a leg over Lucifer's, pulling the angel flush against his body.

"I've never been a real touchy-feely person," Dean murmured. "But this feels right."

Lucifer agreed. It felt _incredible._

He closed his eyes, drifting in a sleepy, comfortable haze. For the first time in forever, he felt safe and completely at rest. His mate was _here._ He didn't hate him. At least, Lucifer didn't think so.

"I'm so sorry, angel," Dean murmured above Lucifer, his throat vibrating against the archangel's nose. "I won't hurt you again, I promise. And if I do, you tell me, alright? I won't be mad, I promise."

Lucifer sniffled. "Okay," he said against Dean's shoulder. The hunter squeezed him tighter, shifting a little in the blankets they were laying on.

They laid like that for a long time. Lucifer drifted in a sleepy haze of happiness and warmth. At some point, Dean must have dozed off, because the hunter started snoring softly. Lucifer giggled to himself, trying to stay quiet so Dean stayed asleep. The hunter didn't wake, just hugged him tighter.

After a while, Dean snorted awake and glanced around a bit, grumbling sleepily. Lucifer tensed, suddenly wondering if Dean would push him away now that he was awake.

But the hunter merely nosed at his hair and sighed.

"You smell good," Dean murmured.

"You do too," Lucifer replied.

The human chuckled and stroked his hand up and down Lucifer's side, earning himself a happy shiver from the archangel. "You hungry, angel?"

"I don't get hungry, Dean," Lucifer reminded the human. He frowned. "Are you?"

Dean nodded. "But we can stay here if you want."

Lucifer was already getting up, hurriedly pulling Dean with him. "You need to eat."

"Lucifer, it can wait," Dean said gently, putting a steadying hand on the archangel's shoulder. "It's okay. You don't have to bend over backwards to make sure I'm happy anymore." At Lucifer's sad expression, the hunter added, "But I still appreciate it."

"Okay," Lucifer said quietly.

Dean opened his arms, letting the archangel fall back against his chest. Lucifer chewed on what he wanted to say for a moment, wondering if Dean would be mad. When he looked up, into the hunter's green eyes, he found that they were glinting kindly.

_To Hell with it. I can't screw it up any more than I have in the past,_ Lucifer decided.

"Can I. . . Can I sleep here tonight?" he asked tentatively.

"Of course," Dean said. He sighed, pressing his forehead against Lucifer's. "I'm sorry, angel. I didn't treat you right. Not at all."

Lucifer sniffled a little. "I deserved it."

"No." It was the first time Dean's voice had been anything but gentle or soft. His words had backbones of steel. "You did _not_ deserve it. I hurt you, and I'm sorry. It was my fault, Luca."

The pet name made the few quiet tears slipping down Lucifer's cheeks turn into a torrent. He hadn't been called Luca in millenia. The last person to call him that had been Michael, back when they were fledglings and Lucifer had no idea what humans even _were_.

"Don't cry, Luca. Do you not want me to call you that?" Dean asked, sounding worried.

Lucifer sobbed and shook his head. "More," he choked out. 

Dean, thankfully, was a smart hunter when he chose to be. He petted Lucifer's hair gently, whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

Lucifer finally calmed down a few minutes later. He cuddled quietly against Dean, working up the courage to ask the question that had been bothering him.

"Why did you suddenly change your mind?" he asked quietly. 

"I realized what I was doing," Dean replied. He sighed. "And I had a friend who helped me pull my head out of my ass."

"You won't. . . You won't. . ." Lucifer trailed off, unable to finish.

Dean, thank Chuck, understood. He kissed the top of Lucifer's head. "Of course not, Luca. I won't hurt you again. I promise. I know. . . I know you can't believe me. Not yet. But you will, once I prove it to you."

Lucifer sniffled and nodded, tucking his face into the crook of Dean's neck. "I love you," he murmured.

Dean kissed his temple and tightened his arms around the sleepy archangel. "I love you too, Luca. I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> And also, thank you to PetrichorPerfume for allowing me to do this! I had a blast. ;)
> 
> Bye for now!


End file.
